


We seek the ends of afternoons

by dutchmoxie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dutchmoxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, how Bellamy Blake showed Clarke Griffin the virtues of detention</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tuesday, Wednesday

Just a normal Tuesday at Mount Weather High School.

Bellamy Blake was a regular fixture in detention. Though he was a senior, his superlative had been decided for him a long time ago: Most Likely to End Up in Jail. Heck, nobody imagined that he would ever go to college, not with his permanent record. No matter that he apparently got good grades - good enough to bother the AP teachers instead of the regular ones.

Good grades didn't make him a good student.

Clarke Griffin knew all about Bellamy Blake's reputation, even before she landed herself in detention for the first time ever. Sure, they were in a lot of the same classes - if he bothered to show up - but their paths rarely if ever crossed outside of class. His sister was a decent girl who took too much shit just because Bellamy was her brother (Clarke used to be Octavia's Big Sister in elementary school).

But, back to the point. Clarke's path was about to cross Bellamy Blake's, because she had actually gotten detention. Her mother was going to kill her - and her father would give her a proud high five, but that was a whole other story.

Why she had gotten detention? Well, Jasper was being a misogynistic shithead and she just got so done that she went on an elaborate feminist rant that ended with her telling him to shove his "fucking fedora” up his ”skinny, pasty ass". Of course, that was when Mr. Kane stood right next to her lunch table and called her out on both inappropriate language and threatening a fellow student.

No matter how much he deserved it, Kane's words - the rules - still had to be upheld. And that is how she'd managed to get her first detention.

When she got to the room, only John Murphy - creep of all creeps - was present. Bellamy Blake was fashionably late, if one could manage that for after-school detention, and the supervising teacher had not yet arrived.

"Of course Clarke Griffin would be early for detention," Murphy was clearly wearing his asshole pants, as usual. "I’m sure you’d just hate to miss a single moment of being detained."

Another guy who just couldn't stand it that she was smarter than him. What else was new? Just because she was the only junior in senior AP classes, people tended to think that she was a stuck-up smart bitch.

"Good afternoon, Murphy," she tried to stay pleasant whenever possible.

And then finally Miss Byrne, the gym teacher, walked into the room, ready to supervise the detention. Clarke sat down at the desk furthest away from Murphy (all the way to the left and in the front of the room) and grabbed one of the three book options she always carried in her bag. Marie Curie biography it is!

Her head was practically inside her book by the time Bellamy Blake finally showed up - with a note from the school nurse, apparently. That was new.

"Clarke Griffin," he sat down at the desk right next to her. "I heard about your takedown. I still maintain you should have just kicked him in the balls."

Miss Byrne coughed pointedly, but Bellamy just grinned in Clarke's direction, settling in lazily on the crappy school chair. He looked like he owned the damn room, and for a brief second she envied his ability to be totally and completely at ease in every situation.

"Hey Blake," Murphy was actually smiling - it did not look like he did that very often. "Make anyone cry today?"

"Sadly, no," Bellamy shot out another remark over his shoulder. "But it's only 4:30."

“Mister Murphy, Mister Blake,” Miss Byrne warned.

Clarke tried to hide the unladylike snort coming out of her mouth, but clearly she failed, seeing how Bellamy leaned a few inches closer to her. The idiot actually looked impressed by her reading material. He appeared to be trying to read along with her.

"If you're just trying to see some cleavage," she warned him, getting right in his face before he got the wrong idea about her.

"Maybe later," Bellamy shrugged. "Marie Curie is positively begging for my attention. And I don't like to keep a lady waiting."

There was a sound of a throat clearing - Miss Byrne was once again not amused.

The bastard winked at her before leaning over her shoulder and reading along with her - right in the midst of the second chapter. He did not ask for her to start over, did not ask for her to slow down a little so he could keep up - he just leaned in close and read along. Did he know that was her idea of the perfect guy, someone who wouldn't ask her to slow down, and who was interested in cool people like Marie Curie? He couldn't have known.

"Griffin and Blake, sitting in a tree," Murphy's sassy pants had not changed.

"Shut up or I'll be the one making you cry," Bellamy did not even raise his voice. "I'm reading, silence is appreciated."

“Silence is appreciated indeed,” Miss Byrne just had to ruin the moment. “This is detention, not social hour.”

The words on the page in front of her were blurring as she searched in vain for something to focus on other than Bellamy Blake and the way she could feel the warmth of his body so close to her, the way her heart rate had sped up, and the way she knew her teenage hormones were screaming for attention.

"You okay, Clarke?" Bellamy moved even closer to her - not helping.

"I was just... thinking," she scrambled to come up with a decent excuse. "Marie Curie is just so fascinating."

And that was certainly true, but it was not what she was thinking about. All she could think about was Bellamy freaking Blake. It was starting to become a serious problem.

"Wanna bail on detention and discuss it some more?" Bellamy looked right into her eyes, temptation itself.

"I can hear you, Mister Blake," Miss Byrne sounded desperately annoyed as she spoke, but she was not even looking up from her sudoku. "You might want to hatch your schemes some other time."

Miss Byrne was one of the few teachers who took detention duty seriously, or so she had heard. Mister Kane rarely made the students study quietly for the full hour, and her friend Nathan's father (the best AP History teacher that the school had ever had) was as calm as his son when he told the kids to leave - if they managed to find five reasonable reasons why they should be allowed to leave, and managed to write these reasons down on paper in a somewhat intelligible essay. Yes, Nathan had told her about this, and she'd found it hilarious then, because David Miller was not kidding around with these reasons. With the exception of Bellamy Blake, no one had ever managed to escape from Miller's detentions.

"I do have more interesting things to do than being here," Bellamy was not going to let this go.

"You should have thought of that before you missed the first thirty minutes of class this morning," Byrne is completely unapologetic. "I know you had work last night, Bellamy, but there are rules for a reason."

Work? He was late for school because of work? He got detention for being late? Was this a regular occurrence? Why would he need to get a job with such terrible hours? Most of her classmates got after-school jobs mowing lawns, or they babysat the neighbors' kids on the weekends. What was up with Bellamy Blake? What kind of job would keep him so late?

"Whatever," Bellamy now looked every bit the bored asshole everyone thought he was. “I’m already late for my shift.”

But she knew better - there was something going on and she was going to get to the bottom of this, even if she had to risk her nearly perfect record to do it. Yes, she was going to accept his offer to sneak out together, even if she did not know how they could escape Byrne's watchful eyes.

"Double standard much?" Murphy had found his angry pants, or so it seemed. "You let the rich kids have a free pass for flat tires and missed busses, but you can't cut Blake a break - yes I rhymed - because he has a damn job?"

Murphy and Bellamy were friends? She had not known that before, but it seemed so obvious to her now. The ribbing from before was a traditional male friendship ritual. Murphy was still an ass, but at least he was a loyal one.

"I cannot go against school policy, Mr. Murphy," Byrne's voice had gotten a lot more harsh over the last few seconds. "Rules are rules, and they were not made to be broken, as you and Mr. Blake seem to think."

So there was prejudice against these guys - and prejudice against the students who could not afford to miss a day of work. Clarke's family was well off, and seeing as she hardly ever caused trouble, she had been allowed a lot more leeway than these guys had been. Sure, Murphy's vandalism of innocent desks was wrong, but maybe the school was supposed to figure out why the guy was so bored and distracted instead of immediately writing him off.

"This is wrong," Clarke closed her biography with a heavy thump and tried to push it back into her heavy bag. "This is showing great prejudice against those of us who are not as fortunate."

Byrne was getting angrier now; it was obvious from the way she had started squeezing her cheap pen in her hand. They had managed to get under her skin, and while a part of Clarke was worried about how this would affect her reputation with the teachers, another part of her was quite proud of what they had managed to accomplish.

"Time to go, Clarke," Bellamy stood, holding out his hand to help her up.

"Such a gentleman," Murphy still had a damn big mouth. "I'm not going to be your third wheel. Might as well head home."

So, she was going to be alone with Bellamy Blake? This was not how she imagined her day would end. Was it better than she imagined? She was not sure yet. Was it more terrifying slash intimidating? Hell yes.

“Mister Murphy,” Miss Byrne watched Murphy walk out of the room. “If you leave this building before your detention is over I will be forced to give you another Saturday detention.”

John Murphy just kept on walking, not even breaking his stride when the gym teacher tried to chase after him. Miss Byrne was the fastest woman on campus, but she clearly had no idea of who she was up against. Murphy seemed to sense that he was almost caught, because he shot off in the direction of the exit.

Well, that certainly made Clarke’s departure easier.

"Are you ready to risk another detention, Princess?" Bellamy Blake's smile was made of almost sinful promises.

"I'm ready," she hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

And without another glance in Miss Byrne's direction, she walked out of detention, on Bellamy Blake's arm. They had already lost track of Murphy, but Bellamy seemed certain that his friend would find his own way home.

“So, how about that Marie Curie, huh?” Bellamy seemed completely at ease, both with her and with the topic of conversation.

That conversation was pretty interesting, but it was nothing compared to what happened when they got inside his crappy car. They peeled out of the parking lot with squealing tires and the second they got onto the main road Bellamy turned up the volume of his stereo system.

“Coming out of my cage,” he started singing along immediately.

Of course she had to join in. Who could resist singing along to Mr. Brightside?

Her father was pretty proud when she arrived home in a beat-up clunker driven by bad boy Bellamy Blake, music still playing loudly. Heck, Jake Griffin was even happier when she explained that Bellamy had escorted her home from detention. And when he found out why his daughter had been in detention in the first place, he was practically on cloud nine.

"You are my favorite daughter," he said to her after they waved goodbye to Bellamy together.

"I'm your only daughter," Clarke had clearly inherited her father's lame sense of humor.

Her father wrapped an arm around her and led her inside, asking if she really called Jasper a "misogynist fuckboy" to his face. Apparently, rumors of her ranting had been greatly exaggerated.

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So she had not exactly have the chance to have an actual conversation with Bellamy Blake that went beyond their mutual admiration for Marie Curie and the awesome ladies of science. That made her extra disappointed the next day when her first class started and Bellamy was once again nowhere to be found.

Almost forty-five minutes later, he finally showed up, just when their AP Lit class was winding down. She was already in a bad mood - would it kill Kane to change the curriculum a little and let them read female authors? Or just anything but dead white guys?

Not the point. The point was that Bellamy finally showed up.

"What did I miss?" the grin on his face as he sauntered into the room was just not even close to fair.

"Just our school's hard-on for dead white guys," she responded monotonously, knowing how much this would piss off Kane.

"Good," Bellamy winked and walked right back out.

"Hey," Mister Kane was completely ineffectual as usual. "Hey!"

Seconds later, the closing bell rang, and Clarke rushed out the door before Kane could realize what she'd said and give her detention again. Also, she really wanted to catch Bellamy before he gave them all the slip again. If she was ever going to get to have an actual conversation with him, she was going to have to work for it. Like, a lot.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Princess?" clearly Bellamy had noticed her following him. "I wouldn't want to mar your perfect reputation."

“Since we share our next class,” she struggled to catch up to him. “I figured that we might as well walk there together. I’ve already got my books.”

Sure, she was really trying to sound casual, but of course Bellamy was seeing right through her. He smirked at her briefly before letting her set the pace for the rest of their journey. They briefly stopped at his locker - it looked like it had not been cleaned in months -  so that he could get his books. Clarke made a mental note of the state of both his books and his locker, and wondered if his belongings were actually dead last on his list of priorities.

While she would usually go for a brisk walk to her next class, this time she found herself taking things slow, just to spend more time walking next to Bellamy. She wanted to draw this out as much as she could - another terrible impulse she could not contain.

“So, what is today’s reading selection?” Bellamy broke the silence, holding his raggedy book bag in his arms.

“I always bring three options,” she confessed, suddenly embarrassed about a habit she was always proud of. “I brought the Marie Curie biography again - I’m not finished with it yet. Also, I have The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood, and there’s Veronica Roth’s Divergent.”

That last title she mentioned quickly and softly, hoping that he would not hear it, hoping that he had not heard of this particular story. It was a silly hope, seeing as the title had been just about everywhere, seeing as the movie was out and the sequel had already been announced for a few months into the future. Of course Bellamy would know about Divergent.

“Really?” Bellamy halted in his tracks.  “I didn’t peg you as the apocalyptic type.”

“I don’t know,” she stammered. “I just really like the world-building. And I really liked the Hunger Games. Also, I feel like I should read the book before I see the movie.”

There they stood, in the middle of the hallway while the other students milled around them, ignoring their awkward discussion of Clarke’s reading choices. She had no idea what else to say to him. After all, she did not know him that well, and just because he was kind of really attractive and he actually talked to her did not mean that he had any real interest in a dork like her.

“The book is always better,” Bellamy led her into the classroom.

“Agreed,” she just managed to say before the bell rang.

That was cutting it too close - she had only just made it through the door when it sounded. She did not have the time to make it to her seat in the front of the classroom.

“Miss Griffin,” the teacher addressed her specifically, and she looked up with a deer caught in headlights stare. “Maybe next time you could arrive on time, so that you are prepared and have your supplies at the ready when the bell rings.”

She barely had the time to take out her books and pen before the teacher started lecturing on DNA and genotyping. She barely even had the time to notice the evil grin on Raven’s face before there was a note tossed onto her desk. But of course, Bellamy had enough time to grin mockingly at her as he slowly took his seat all the way against the back wall.

What’s up with the delinquent-shaped escort to class? Momma Bear Griffin would not approve. I love it! And, I hear you even managed to snag a ride in the clunker. Though really, if you two ever start dating, I’m gonna need you to get that thing into my dad’s garage. It’s about time I get an actual challenge.

She quickly pushed Raven’s note underneath her books, scared of another lecture. Maybe Bellamy Blake was a bad influence.

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When it was finally time for lunch - mornings in school never used to last this long, or so she thought - she decided to steer clear of Bellamy Blake. She was in enough trouble already, just waiting for the moment when the vice principal would be notified of her departure from detention the day before. She was bound to get more detention for that - and so was Bellamy.

Speaking of a certain bad influence, he was sulking over at his regular table, flanked by Murphy (of course) and this girl named Roma that Clarke did not know too much about. They did not share any classes, but she did know that Roma and Bellamy were a thing once. Or was that still going on? If so, was that any of her business? And why did she even care?

“Earth to Griffin,” Monty was waving a hand in front of her face.

“Mars to Green,” she grabbed the offending appendage and pushed it aside.

Her lunch, that she packed by herself, was kind of ridiculous in comparison to what she had seen in front of Bellamy. She had sandwiches and fruit and homemade baked goods that she shared among her friends - he had an apple and maybe half a peanut butter sandwich. That was not enough for a growing young man.

“You’re staring again,” Raven kicked her ankle.

“I’m not,” she was on the defensive almost immediately.

No, she totally was not staring at Bellamy Blake from across the dining hall, because that would just be creepy. That stupid stalker shit was only cute in teen movies - in real life it just made her look like an absent minded idiot. Bellamy Blake was not supposed to see her like that. No one was supposed to see her acting like a lovesick fool.

“You were totally out of it during chem,” Monty sided with Raven, as usual. “You are so lucky I was there to save your ass.”

She was lucky enough to have Monty as her lab partner this semester - while he had the tendency to take a little too much risk, he knew more about chemistry than a rebellious 17-year-old had any right to. Seriously, she’d wondered more than once if her friend was on a watchlist somewhere. It would make sense.

“Still less dangerous than Jasper and Raven,” Clarke grinned, getting back into the easy camaraderie.

Usually, Clarke was pretty good at AP Chem, but today her brain had decided that the only chemistry it wanted to consider was the kind she had with Bellamy Blake. Yeah, it was more than a little embarrassing, in her opinion.

“We haven’t made anything explode,” Jasper vehemently defended his current partnership.

“Yet,” Clarke responded with a teasing grin. “Which is the very reason why you’re not allowed to work with Monty ever again.”

They needed all appendages attached if they were to get their college degrees - Raven in mechanical engineering, Clarke in medicine (at least, if her mother had anything to say about it). Both of their future professions required a certain dexterity that would be ruined if Monty and Jasper were ever allowed to work together. “Work” meaning making things explode - a lot.

“I’m a great lab partner too,” Raven batted her eyelashes at Jasper.

“Sure,” Jasper’s grin was kind of infectious. “And your happiness with this partnership has nothing to do with the almost exponential increase in your chemistry grade.”

It was not that Raven was bad at chemistry, it was just that she needed a lab partner who knew what they were doing, and explosions aside, Jasper was definitely that guy. Clarke really tried to help her friend, but it usually took a lot of effort just to get her own part done.

“Speaking of increases in chemistry,” Raven had found her opening to tease Clarke.

“Screw you,” she replied quickly, and a little too harshly.

The entire table was now focused on her, which was exactly what Raven had intended. Even Nathan and Harper looked up from their private conversation to watch the drama unfold. Finn rolled his eyes briefly, but he could not hide that he was interested in the conversation. That’s when Clarke realized that she’d been had.

“Who said I was talking about you?” Raven was too freaking clever for her own good, as usual.

“You are an evil woman, Reyes,” Clarke huffed, trying really hard not to stare at Bellamy.

And failing, because it only took her mere seconds to focus her gaze on the intriguing delinquent across the room. He was talking to Roma again - really, were those two still a thing? - as Murphy looked ready to fall asleep on his lunch tray, clearly bored with the topic of conversation. Clarke stifles a laugh at the picture, and then catches Bellamy’s eye completely by accident.

Shit! He’d noticed that she was looking at him. This was bad. She blushed.

“I expect to be your best man at the wedding,” Jasper grinned. “Since it’s my fault you got into detention in the first place. God, what a story to tell the grandkids.”

She halfheartedly shoved at her friend, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes. Jasper was an idiot from time to time, but he was always their idiot.

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Of course the call for her came in the middle of Mr. Miller’s History class. Now, she wouldn’t say it was her favorite class, but even though she was not a History buff, she greatly enjoyed Mr. Miller’s way of teaching. And now she would have to miss at least half the class because she was stupid enough to bail on detention. Excellent critical thinking there, Clarke.

She found herself in the last chair in the row outside Vice Principal Jaha’s office. Once upon a time, she and the vice principal’s son had been friends, but that had all crashed to a screeching halt when Wells accused Clarke’s mother of infidelity - with Mr. Kane of all people. Surely Jaha Senior would not still be offended on his son’s behalf. Thelonius Jaha was a harsh man, but he had always been just - she hoped that his disappointment in her would not sway him.

The clock ticked ever so slowly, and she wondered what her classmates were doing right now, while she was staring at the wall. Well, she certainly had plenty of time to consider her misdeeds and her impending punishment. A Saturday detention was forthcoming, and while she had technically earned it, she was still hoping that Jaha made a different decision.

After all, she had never done anything like this before, and she really regretted what she had done. She did not regret the yelling at Jasper that had caused her to get detention in the first place, but she thought the punishment far outweighed the crime. It was one infraction, one time when she yelled at her friend when he annoyed the shit out of her. Did that really warrant a detention? Though every decision she had made after that was certainly bad and not something that she would ever do. But she did it - she walked away from detention. And she did it for a boy! Of all the reasons to do stupid things, that was the least acceptable option.

Oh God! What if this went on her personal record? She was Ivy-bound, and Ivy League schools did not accept students with authority problems - and they probably did not need stupid girls who let boys lead them away from detention and right into trouble.

She just didn’t do stuff like this.

And then, in strolled Bellamy Blake himself, the reason for all her inner turmoil. He smiled flirtatiously at Jaha’s ancient secretary, starting some kind of inside joke that Clarke was never going to understand. Then, he slouched into the open seat next to her with a careless grace that she briefly envied, before telling herself that her own carefulness was far superior. She had to stop falling in with Bellamy Blake and his careless, carefree lifestyle.

“So, what are you in for?” he turned to her, smirking.

There was a sassy response on the tip of her tongue, but then the door opened to reveal the feared vice principal himself. Clearly, it was Clarke’s turn to be berated, and Jaha was not in the mood for shenanigans. Without another look at Bellamy - okay, maybe one - she followed the vice principal into his office.

“Sit down, Miss Griffin,” Thelonius Jaha was coldly distant to her from the second he saw her.

At least that answered the question of whether he still held a grudge. She tried not to let her internal turmoil show and sat down on the seriously uncomfortable chair that Jaha saved for the wayward students. Seriously, he must have gotten that trick straight out of a cop show or something - making the suspect uncomfortable made them more likely to confess.

“I am extremely disappointed in you,” Jaha started the lecture. “You had perfect attendance and an absolutely perfect record, until you threw it away on a temper tantrum. And I haven’t even started on associating with such a terrible influence.”

Ah yes, because it was impossible for her to make mistakes on her own, it all had to be pinned on Bellamy Blake’s bad influence on her. Yes, she was fully aware of the fact that she just wasn’t this kind of girl, but to blame it all on Bellamy? No, this was all stubbornness and teenage foolishness and while pinning it on a crush on the delinquent was the easiest solution, it was not the right one.

“I do apologize, Mr. Jaha,” she tried to lessen her punishment by showing how contrite she was. “I should not have walked out of detention before my time was up. I will gladly serve the full hour at another time.”

That offer should have been acceptable to him, right? All it was about was her following the rules like a good little girl, and her offering to go back to serve her full hour of detention served that purpose. There was no need to make an example out of her - it was bad enough that her mother found out that she had detention in the first place. She could maybe manage another detention - but a Saturday detention? That was too much.

“No,” clearly the vice principal disagreed. “I have to do what’s best for you, and you can’t keep going down this path, Miss Griffin. It’s best to be strict, so you won’t try this again.”

Seriously? She made one stupid mistake and they immediately felt the need to make an example out of her? Shit, she had really gotten herself into deep trouble here. This was certainly not going to go over well with her mother.

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” Jaha fired his parting shot. “8 am sharp.”

Why did she let herself get dragged into this detention mess? Why did she leave, knowing full well that it was going to come back to bite her in the ass? Why was she such a stupid girl?

She made a quick exit from Jaha’s office, out the side door so she would not have to come face to face with Bellamy freaking Blake. Seeing him again would have been just too embarrassing for her to deal with at that moment. Also, she didn’t want to risk the possibility of changing her mind about everything again. He just had that power over her.

If she wanted to live, she had better avoid him. Her mom was going to be furious enough about Saturday as it was. She did not need to make it worse.

Turns out, she was pretty damn right about her mother. Abby Griffin was positively furious when her daughter came home. Apparently Vice Principal Jaha had called Abby at the hospital to let her know that Clarke was seriously misbehaving, all because of the influence of a juvenile delinquent. And if there was anything Abigail Griffin was not having, it was her perfect daughter ruining the future that had been set out for her.

“It was just one detention, Mom,” Clarke sighed petulantly.

“No, that is just how it starts,” her mom had her ranting face on. “It starts with meeting this cute guy but he’s just a bit of a rebel. And so you get a detention so he will notice you, and then another one because it worked so well the last time. And before you know it you are broke and strung out on drugs, and you end up dead in a crack motel!”

Wow, what kind of hospital fumes had her mom been breathing in? Because this took crackpot theories to a whole new level! There was no way that she would ever do any of this! She did not get a detention to make Bellamy notice or like her. She was not desperate enough to ever get a detention on purpose. Even when she walked out of her only detention, she did not do that so that she would see Bellamy again during their next detention.

Really, she was more intelligent than that. Why couldn’t her mom stop treating her like a child? She stopped being a child ages ago!

“You’re grounded,” Abby continued. “For two full weeks. Starting today.”

Jake Griffin had been unusually silent throughout this conversation, but Clarke expected him to start commenting any time now. He was always the one to break the ice, to end the tension with a well-placed comment or joke. She didn’t think it was going to be any different this time.

Until it was.

“I have to agree with your mother, Clarke,” Jake completely changed sides. “Getting two detentions in one week is not a good sign. Not when you are supposed to be focusing on your schoolwork and your extracurriculars. Applications are only a few months away.”

Where was the guy who found all of this so hilarious just yesterday?

“Now, I don’t believe you did any of this on purpose,” her father tried to soften the blow, “but I do believe that grounding you will get your priorities straight again.”

Et tu, Brute?

 

 


	2. Thursday, Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a long week. Or is it really?

Thursday started with her determination to completely avoid Bellamy Blake, which lasted until her last class of the day - so close, she was so close! Freedom was right there, but then Bellamy found her and cornered her at her locker after last bell.

“The world makes sense again,” he leaned against the neighboring locker like he was posing for Playgirl. “No detention today?”

Actually, she would have preferred an hour’s detention on Thursday afternoon over a full four hours on Saturday morning. But of course Bellamy Blake could afford to be rather blasé about it all - he’d done this a million times already. Clarke hadn’t been here before, not in this situation, and she hated every second of it.

Her parents had lost faith in her, and her teachers had started looking at her like she would snap if given a second glance. They were prepared to jot down anything that even resembled an infraction, just so she could be put on the right path again. Because she had strayed off the path just a little, just to see what was out there.

“Just on Saturday,” she bit out the words with malice. “For four whole hours! Because I was stupid enough to leave detention with you. And now I’m grounded for two whole weeks because of you. I had plans this weekend!”

She was really trying not to yell at him at this point - because Clarke Griffin did not make a scene. She was holding back the anger rather unsuccessfully, but at least she was not at shouting level yet. Sure, her classmates were wondering why she’d be hanging out with notorious senior fuck-up Bellamy Blake, but at least they weren’t gossiping about this being a possible lover’s spat. And at least there were no teachers close by who would hear the argument and assign her another detention for some stupid reason.

Her parents would actually kill her if that happened.

“I must have had an aneurysm or something,” she muttered. “Why else would I have ruined everything to leave with you? I had plans, damn it!”

“So, what, your parents don’t think you’re perfect any longer?” Bellamy looked to be gearing up for one hell of a fight. “Tough shit, princess. You had plans on Saturday? You were gonna hang out with your friends and now you’re grounded? Talk about first world problems.”

Excuse her? So everything they’d been saying about Bellamy Blake was true? He actually was a proper asshole. He influenced her into getting into trouble and then he threw it back into her face, which was just really freaking lovely. She had enough trouble already without adding him to the pile. Besides, he was the one who sought her out, so if he did not like what she had to say, he could just walk away.

“Wow, that is so nice and considerate of you,” she rolled her eyes.

“Some people have real problems, Princess,” Bellamy stood up straighter now, no longer leaning against her locker like a slacker model. “Some people don’t have a cushy home and two loving parents with a lot of money in the bank. Some people just have a kid sister that they need to take care of. So forgive me for not weeping over your misfortune.”

Ah yes, she was not supposed to complain because she was pretty and blonde and her parents were rich. That was just lovely. Well, too bad for Bellamy freaking Blake, because she really hated what was happening here and she was going to complain about it if she wanted to. It had nothing to do with anyone else, just because she was pissed about her own stupid behavior and his influence… Oh, screw it. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“Wow, asshole,” she shoved her books into her bag, slammed the door to her locker closed and turned away from him.

In her haste to get away from him, she had barely taken the time to button up her coat, and so she awkwardly tried to do everything at once - walking, buttoning up her coat, and looking for the bus. Only to see it passing by on the damn street.

“I missed the bus,” she turned to face Bellamy. “My parents are going to kill me and it will be all your fault!”

If he hadn’t stalled her at her locker she would have been in time to make the stupid bus home, but no. Now she was going to be late and her parents were going to extend the grounding by another week or two. Yes, that was all his fault.

“Fine,” Bellamy sighed heavily. “Get in the car, Princess. I’ll drive you home.”

Wait, was he serious about that? Did he really think that was ever going to happen again? The stupid crush might not have died just yet, but she was not stupid enough to piss her parents off even more by catching a ride home with Bellamy Blake.

“I’m grounded,” she gave him her most frustrated look. “My parents will kill me if I’m late, especially if I show up late with you. Why would I make it worse than it already is?”

“How else will you get home?” Bellamy was reluctantly persuading her. “You’ll be home really late if you walk because you’re having a temper tantrum. Isn’t that how this whole detention thing got started in the first place?”

Look, he might have been confused because she had been making some spectacularly stupid decisions lately, but she was actually not dumb enough to further worsen her relationship with her parents. It was bad enough already - her dad had never agreed with her mother so quickly and on such a harsh punishment.

“I promise to drive safely,” Bellamy actually put his hand on his heart. “And I swear that I will take you straight home. Scout’s honor. Even though I was never a Boy Scout.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “At least I’ll get home faster than I would if I had taken the bus.”

Before he got the chance to say anything else, she marched to his clunky car, making good time - she was going to make him keep his promise if it killed her. Her parents were going to be disappointed enough already.

“Your highness,” Bellamy opened the car door for her.

“Stop that,” she warned, waiting for him to just get in already. “Let’s get going.”

The car screeched out of the parking lot before long, and she was surprised to notice that Bellamy did not have his music on at an earsplitting volume. Honestly, she was expecting to be assailed with some crappy garage band, and this was a surprise. Though, she had yet to decide whether it was a pleasant or an unpleasant one.

“Oh, look, it’s your bus,” Bellamy had to slam the brakes when the damn thing turned in front of them. “Still want to get on?”

What a funny guy he was. She put her feet up on the dash and looked out the window, wishing that there was at least some decent music to break the monotony and the awkwardness.

“Not particularly,” she sighed, speaking just to break the silence. “Look, if we have to sit in this car together for the next forty minutes or so, can we at least play some music? I’m sure you have Mr. Brightside somewhere in your collection.”

“My sister borrowed that,” Bellamy shrugged. “If you’re really desperate to stave off the boredom, I guess we have to talk.”

Wow, that sounded really appealing. Talking to the guy whose mission in life appeared to be to make trouble - for her and for anyone else. Also, she was still kinda mad at him.

“You sound so excited,” she rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you either,” he would have crossed his arms if he could have done that without crashing this piece of junk he calls a car.

Well fine then! So they wouldn’t talk. She would just have to do some sums in her head to keep herself busy. There was always something to do, and it was probably something way better than talking to Bellamy freaking Blake.

So she stayed quiet, her feet up on the dash still, no matter how awkward it made her feel. She was the picture of disinterest and he was going to have to be the one to crack first. She was perfectly able of keeping herself occupied.

“Do your parents really ride you that hard?” Bellamy finally broke the silence, actually sounding curious about her family life. “What, do they expect perfection or something?”

“The daughter of Doctor Abigail Griffin is not allowed to make mistakes,” she kept her voice completely steady. “My grades have to be perfect, and my extracurriculars have to be even better. I don’t exactly have any wiggle room.”

It sounded harsh, but it wasn’t terrible - at least, it didn’t used to be. Now that she had actually screwed up, the demand for constant perfection was starting to seem just the slightest bit preposterous. Because how could they expect for anyone, let alone a teenager, to be perfect every moment of every day? Heck, if she had any sense she would have had a much worse rebellious phase years ago.

“Damn,” Bellamy whistled through his teeth. “That’s a lot of pressure at seventeen.”

“Well, you’re in good classes too,” she tried to keep the focus off her. “And you get good grades, despite your best efforts. Like, don’t your parents care about that?”

She did not want to talk about herself and her parents - that was a topic she mostly avoided even with her close friends. Like, Raven knew her parents were strict, but even she did not know just how bad it got sometimes. Clarke just really hated talking about it.

“They’re gone,” he shrugged, telling her matter-of-factly, “My dad split the second O was born and my mom died last year.”

For a second, she expected him to tell her more, to keep talking, but it seemed like grumpy Bellamy had returned. It was understandable, with the topic being a painful one, that he did not want to expose his every dark secret to the girl who had been yelling at him only minutes prior. She understood, but she would have liked to find out more about him.

“I’m sorry,” she gently placed her hand on his arm, trying not to startle him with the gesture.

He did not immediately act defensive, which was probably a good sign, but she could feel the muscles in his arm bunch up, even underneath his raggedy sweater. So she just as quickly pulled back her hand and waited for the inevitable explosion.

But it did not come. Bellamy said nothing as he stared at the back of the stupid bus. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he pointedly avoided her gaze.

“So, is that why you have your jobs?” she asked gently, thinking that this was her only chance to find out. “Because you have to support Octavia all on your own? That’s got to be why you’re late and you cut out early. You have to.”

“They didn’t want me to keep her,” Bellamy’s jaw was clenched. “But I fought for her. So now we live in this shitty apartment, and O still gets Mom’s social security because she’s not eighteen yet. So yeah, that helps, but I gotta put some of it in the bank for her college fund and shit. The rest goes to rent, and some spending money for O.”

Octavia had to be about thirteen or fourteen years old now. She wasn’t in high school yet, Clarke knew that much, but she was old enough to start junior high. A girl that age didn’t need to carry the world on her shoulders. Right now, it sounded like Bellamy did that for her.

It changed things.

“I didn’t know,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”

God, she really hoped that he knew that she was not apologizing for his misfortune - Bellamy Blake was not the kind of guy to tolerate pity - but instead she was apologizing for her own stupid behavior. Because she had been acting like a superficial brat, just because she believed all the stories that were told about him.

When he smiled softly, she felt relieved. Her apology had been understood and accepted, making the silence in the car at least a little less tense.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Clarke stammered. “How is Octavia doing? I haven’t talked to her in a while. My parents decided that the Big Sister program had served its purpose for me.”

This was the only way she knew how to deal with the talk about all these sad things. Like, talking about his sister seemed to make him a little happier. Sure, she would have liked to give him a hug, but the awkwardness of that stopped her, especially seeing as he is behind the wheel and it could be dangerous.

Plus, there were the people in the back of the bus, who’d been staring at Clarke and Bellamy for the past three stops. There was gawking and pointing and laughing, and everything else that made her sure that she was going to get a lot of shit about Bellamy Blake driving her home on the bus to school tomorrow morning.

The bus pulled over at the corner of her street, and she watched Harper and Monty come running out of the vehicle ahead of the other kids just to see if Clarke was still behind them. Monty was hooting and hollering like a fool, and Harper was texting furiously.

Clarke just waved at them and hoped things wouldn’t be too bad on Friday morning.

Bellamy slowed down as they reached her house and she was actually hesitant to leave this messy car and go back home. Her parents were just going to make her go to her room and do the homework that she’d already completed in class. What was she supposed to do at home for two whole weeks without anyone’s company?

“Do you want to come in?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

“You’re already grounded,” Bellamy reminded her, grinning widely. “I don’t think your parents will be very happy if you bring home the very delinquent they’re angry with, and your mom is actually watching us at the window. Besides, I have to get to work.”

She did not know why she was disappointed at that, but she chose not to dwell on that too much. It was a bad idea to get too attached to him, because her parents were never going to let her associate with him ever again.

“See you tomorrow, princess,” the nickname lacked its usual malice.

“Thank you for the ride,” she did not have the courage to bring up their conversation.

It seemed like he understood her anyway, because he smiled ever so briefly before he noticed her mother opening the door. Clarke grabbed her bag, shot a hesitant smile in Bellamy’s direction, and then turned to face the music as he drove away.

“What were you thinking, Clarke?” Abby Griffin asked the second she stepped over the threshold.

“I was thinking that I missed the bus,” she answered, trying not to sound too irritated. “Bellamy was kind enough to offer me a ride home. We were behind my bus the whole time and I even managed to beat Monty and the other kids home,” she said, pointing at Monty walking up his front yard just a few houses down.

Any use of reason was not going to work with her mother, so she was not surprised when her mother’s disappointment continued to radiate off her.

“Clarke,” her mother was clearly unhappy with her judgment.

“Look, I came home straight from school,” she sighed. “I didn’t stay to talk with my friends. I did what you asked for, so you don’t have to stand at the window until I come inside.”

It was a little ridiculous to be looked after as if she was a child. She was seventeen years old, the only junior who took senior AP classes, and yet both her parents insisted upon watching her as if she might sprout tattoos and start smoking or vandalize the neighborhood and getting arrested - that was the definition of delinquency after all.

“Next time you should call if you miss the bus,” Abby continued to lecture. “Don’t get a ride from that boy, especially not when he is driving that death trap. He is a bad influence and I will not let you see a boy whose only future is behind bars.”

Ah yes, because the magical powers of Dr. Griffin included predicting the futures of those she had never interacted with, based solely on conjecture and rumors.

“Maybe if you’d actually bothered to speak with him,” Clarke was so over this stupidity, “you would know that he is actually a really good guy.”

“Look, Clarke, I know the draw of a bad boy, but-” Abby Griffin, wrong as usual.

“You don’t know anything,” she was actually yelling at her mother at this point. “He has no parents and he is supporting himself and his little sister all on his own!”

She so did not mean to tell her mother any of that, but it was too late to take it back. And while her mother looked pensive, it did not mean that her opinion was going to change. It just meant that there was some time left before the next patronizing comment - and she was not going to wait around for more of that bullshit.

“I like it a lot better when you’re on day rotation at the hospital and dad is out on a job,” she threw her coat at the coatrack and stomped up the stairs.  

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Friday was a day of mystery. About thirty seconds before the second bell rang, Bellamy Blake slipped into the seat next to her, even though they were supposed to have assigned seats - his was usually in the back of the room, of course.

This happened in every damn class, and her classmates and friends had taken note of it. Raven had dubbed them “Bonnie and Clyde”, and the rest of the class just watched the Clarke and Bellamy spectacle with wide eyes. And what a sight they made, sitting side by side in class with absolutely nothing happening. Her classmates had to have been really bored to be so riveted by it all.

She was over the novelty of it all by lunch, but it was still a surprise when she sat down at her lunch table only to have Bellamy Blake put down his tray across from hers. She looked up from her ridiculously elaborate lunch to see him gracefully slide into the seat. Seriously, how did he do that? How did he make his every move work for him like that? It was just making her like him more - and that was not so good. Really, those feelings were best ignored.

Next to his peanut butter sandwich and apple, her own lunch just looked outlandish. Her mom had even packed a damn bribe - a homemade brownie with hazelnuts. Normally she would have gorged herself on the treat, but she knew that it would just taste bitter to her now - and Bellamy would probably appreciate more than she did.

“Do you want this?” she slid the brownie over to his side of the table. “My mom packed it for me. She knows how much I hate it when she puts nuts in them.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Bellamy grinned at her. “But yes, I will take that.”

Just when she and Bellamy were getting along, her phone started beeping. She’d missed a couple texts from Raven, apparently. All three texts were sent within the last five minutes, and all of them were ludicrous.

12:11 Can we still sit with you or will your delinquent boyfriend beat us up if we try?

12:13 Did you just give him your FOOD? You are in love!

12:14 I ship this so hard. Also, I call maid of honor!

She might have been blushing, because Bellamy was looking at her in a way that was part fondness and part - well, she hoped it was attraction and not just wishful thinking. She just wanted to steer clear of the topic of Raven’s texts.

“I really hope that was not your mother texting you,” Bellamy teased.

“My mother barely understands the concept,” she shrugged and took a sip of her water. “This was Raven annoying me. For some reason she can’t seem to get close to me today.”

With that last comment, she shot Bellamy a teasing look - maybe she was actually getting this flirtation thing down. He had been next to her, or across from her, all day long, and it wasn’t that she minded that…. It was just that the butterflies were kind of distracting, and she really had no idea what they’d discussed in over half of her classes. Usually - not that this kind of thing ever happened to her before - she would have dragged Raven away from the group right now to sort out whatever was troubling her. But not this time.

“I know I’m monopolizing your attentions today,” Bellamy didn’t seem too moved by Raven’s plight.

“Still, you don’t seem to feel too bad about that,” Clarke was completely unable to stop staring at Bellamy.

“And you don’t seem to be surprised at my usage of polysyllabic words,” Bellamy looked away from her then, his gaze focused on his food. “That’s a first.”

Of course that was a new experience for him. People around here seemed to think that just because he was in trouble a lot meant that he was just not a very good student. And she knew better than that - even with all of his absences and tardy entries into class, he still made grades that were worthy of all the important colleges.

“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the history books in your backseat. No one who learns Ancient Greek for fun should be looked down upon.”

Bellamy Blake was the biggest History nerd she had ever met. How was she ever supposed to resist him now?

12:19 Just make out already. I beg of you.

12:19 Jasper and I may have a bet going.

12:19 There’s twenty bucks riding on this.

12:20 Make me proud. And rich. Mama needs gadgets.

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Once again, he was at her locker after their last class. But this time he had actually escorted her there, holding out his arm to her and offering to carry her books.

“May I drive you home again, Princess?” Bellamy had insisted on keeping the nickname. “I promise to drop you off around the block.”

“You are the King of the Dorks,” she grinned at him before she checked the list of titles in her locker against the ones she needed over the weekend. “And you had better pull into that driveway. I want my parents to know that you’re still my chauffeur.”

Just picturing the look on her mother’s face as Bellamy drove his clunker into their driveway, that was enough for Clarke to start grinning like a total fool. Okay, so maybe in her little fantasy things did not end there, but she was not going to make a fool of herself by telling Bellamy anything about how many times she’d wished he would just make a move. Because he did like her, right? He wouldn’t just start hanging out with her for no reason.

“You demoted me from King to chauffeur just like that?” the mock-wounded look on his face was actually kind of adorable.

“Who said you couldn’t be both?” she closed her locker and turned to him.

Bellamy laughed, and they both tried to avoid the turned heads of their classmates. People had been staring at them all day, and while it was growing old rather quickly, she had also learned to ignore it. She was going to have to get used to it if she was going to keep hanging out with Bellamy - and she wanted nothing more than that.

“Did you get everything you need?” Bellamy pushed himself away from the lockers.

He was doing that leaning thing again, the thing that made her stare at the way his jeans hung low on his hips. The thing that never failed to make her slightly giddy that he was with her.

“Time to leave,” she knew she would be back in less than twenty-four hours.

Even though Bellamy was going to be right there with her tomorrow, she still was not looking forward to her Saturday morning detention. Yet it was the only way she was going to get out of the house all weekend. It was the only opportunity she had to see anyone other than her damn parents. At least there was that.

“The weekend beckons,” Bellamy offered her his arm again.

Did he even remember that this mythical weekend would involve a Saturday detention for both of them? It seemed like his mind was otherwise occupied, even as they both got into his car. She wondered what he was considering, especially when he neglected to turn up the music.

For some reason it seemed like the typical Friday end-of-day-exodus traffic was worse than usual. They had not moved more than a few feet for at least five minutes, and the silence in the car was getting a little weird, because it seemed like Bellamy had something that he wanted to say to her. It was just that every time he tried to say something, he would close his mouth and leave her to wonder if he was ever going to make a move.

Her heart was pounding in her chest every single time he took a deep breath to steel himself for his speech. At this point, she was sure her heartbeat sounded like that of a professional athlete after the big game. This thing was just nerve wracking.

“Yes, Bellamy?” she asked when he tried and failed to talk again.

“Can I take you out some time?” the words came out in a single rambling blur. “I mean, to dinner, or to a movie. You know, some time when I’m not working.”

Bellamy Blake asked her out. Bellamy Blake actually asked her out. It was about damn time! A million thoughts started racing through her head all at once. Bellamy Blake actually liked her. They were going to go out on a date! This was actually happening! Wait, did this mean that Jasper owed Raven twenty bucks? She’d just have to tell Raven at their weekly movie ni- nope. There was also detention to consider. And she was still grounded.

Well, that made the happy thoughts disappear quickly.

“You do know I’m still grounded, right?” she rolled her eyes at him. “And it’s all because you’re such a terrible influence. You practically live in detention.”

Only because the teachers at their school were morons who did not understand how much pressure he was under, but still. Maybe her comment was going to help him remember that they were actually in detention together these days, more specifically the very next day.

The cars in front of them had not yet moved, and so she was left staring at the exact same area of parking lot as before, all the while waiting for Bellamy to regain his senses. Was he that upset that she seemingly rejected him? Was she too harsh in her jokes about his delinquent habits? Did she just ruin this?

That would be very freaking typical of her. But maybe there was a chance that she hadn’t completely wrecked her chances. She still had a shot.

“Speaking of detention,” she was stunned that he hadn’t made the connection yet, “what are you doing tomorrow morning?”

A lightbulb moment occurred. Finally.

“Picking you up,” Bellamy grinned dorkily. “Is 7:30 okay? I’ll bring coffee and donuts.”

“It’s a date,” she blurted out, so very charmed by his adorable grin.

Wow, she really just said the word “date.” And he wasn’t protesting, or being awkward about it. She actually had a date with Bellamy Blake. Well, it was a detention date, but that was kind of fitting for the both of them. She could work with that.

Impulsively, Clarke unbuckled - she was not going to make this harder than it needed to be - and leaned over to give Bellamy a kiss on the cheek. She had intended to kiss him on the mouth, but had chickened out at the last second. Still, even though she didn’t reach her intended target, the kiss still made him grin like a fool.

“What was that for, Princess?” the grin had turned into a smirk.

“No reason.” When he looked at her with that smirk, her stomach fluttered and she could not help but blush.

She really liked Bellamy, and now that they were kind of going out, it was okay to express that. Especially since he just might be her boyfriend now. She really hoped that was what this meant. Having feelings for him was so much more fun now that those feelings were reciprocated.

And that much was clear, because Bellamy took his hands off the wheel and tried to pull her closer to him, holding her hand in his. He was still buckled in, and he cursed when that kept him from reaching for her properly.

“Mind your language, you bad influence” she grinned as he struggled with his seatbelt.

“I’m about to get even worse,” Bellamy leaned over to her side.

Her heart pounded rapidly again as he cupped her face. For a second, they just stared at each other, and then he finally leaned in those last few inches. Their first kiss.

It started out slow, with his chapped lips gently pressing on hers, but when she kissed him back his fingers suddenly wound into the hair at the nape of her neck, as though that would somehow bring her closer. She opened her mouth to him and kissed him back a little hungrily, her own hand finding its way to his cheek.

The loud honking of a car horn pierced through the fog in her brain, causing them both to jump. The other cars in the parking lot had started moving while they were otherwise occupied and clearly the driver behind them was not very patient.

Bellamy pulled away, a little reluctantly, unable to keep from grinning at the pout she threw at the driver behind them.

“Guess we need to move,” he quickly re-buckled his seatbelt.

“You know that my friends have a bet on when we’d get together?” she asked. “Just wait until they find out.”

“Nah,” Bellamy grinned mischievously, shifting into gear and pulling out of the parking lot. “We’ll let them figure it out on their own.”

THE END

 

 


End file.
